


Red (hood, light)

by thankyouturtle



Category: Batgirl (Comic), Batman (Comics), DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-24
Updated: 2011-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-15 01:38:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thankyouturtle/pseuds/thankyouturtle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You meet all kinds, on the streets of Gotham.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red (hood, light)

It was one of those weeks. More accurately, it was one of _those_ weeks. Dad was... gone, off doing whatever he did when he wasn't living at home smacking her and Mom around. And Mom was gone too, in her own way. She'd spent her last fortnight's pay on the stuff, this time, and there were only so many days Steph could put up with an empty fridge.

So it was a working night, then. It didn't happen often, like this. Usually Steph found a way to stretch the finances as far as she could. But sometimes, like tonight, she'd have to slip into a pair of heels so tottering it took all her skill not to fall, pull on a skirt that just barely covered her panties, and carefully pull a halter-neck top down so that her - admittedly small - breasts were almost hanging out of them. And then she'd pull on an oversized coat and call to her mother that she was off for a walk.

She'd quickly learned the perils of standing on someone else's strip of street. She had her own corner, had proved in the past that she was more than capable of defending it. Tonight, as she tripped down the road to her own spot, a couple of the other girls nodded to her. Friends in high places, Steph thought humorlessly, that's me.

She didn't even see her first client, which was weird; didn't hear him, either. She'd thought her nights as Spoiler were tuning up her senses, but she didn't know he was there until she felt a hand on her knee, sliding up her thigh and tugging at her panties. Her first instinct was to punch or kick, but she forced herself still, to slowly turn and look at the man with what she hoped was a sultry look on her face.

"How much?" he asked. He was tall, muscled, clean-shaven but with dark hair in need of a cut. And he wore a domino mask, which made Steph's gut clench, because how many times had she worried that Tim would find her out here? But it wasn't Tim, of course. And this was Gotham. Everyone wore a mask.

"Depends what you're looking for." She tried a smile. It was hard to know how to look. Some of the guys wanted you to look like you were enjoying yourself. Some of them wanted you to act like you hated yourself. This guy seemed like the enjoying-kind, though.

"Sadly," the man said, and his voice was filled with regret, "I don't think you have what I'm looking for." The hand slides slowly back down her leg. "Just how old are you anyway, kid?"

"Eighteen," Steph said automatically. It was such a bad lie it would be hilarious under any other circumstances, but most guys seemed to want to believe it.

"Yeah," said the man, "I used to be eighteen too." He gazed down the street for a moment; the other girls seem to be busy with johns of their own. "You be careful," he told her, and then he disappeared back into the shadows. Steph shook her head. Weird, maybe, but not exactly the weirdest thing she'd seen.It was a slow night. Actually, it was a dead night. The other girls disappeared early, off to look for greener pastures, maybe. From her own position, Steph heard sirens and gunshots; for a while, she could smell smoke, not close by, but just sort of - in the air. Maybe that was why no one was buying. She had just about decided to call it a night when a small package landed with a thump at her feet.

"I've been watching you." It was the man from before. Maybe he meant for that to sound intimidating, but Steph wasn't easily intimidated, not by anyone. She glared at him, through the dark.

"Get off on voyeurism, do you?"

There was a smirk on his face. "Not tonight. I've been watching you at your... _other_ job." It was the way he said it. Whoever he was, and now Steph was really itching to take that mask off him - he knew about Spoiler. Maybe. "What do you think Bats would say, if he knew you were here? What about your boyfriend?"

Steph clenched her jaw, and then said, "I guess when I'm murdered on the street he'll go looking for my killer. Just like he does for all the other hookers." The man laughed. He smelled like smoke. Not cigarettes; that same burning building smell that had been in the air before. "You know him personally, do you?" she asked him, irritated.

"Sure," the man said flippantly. "Used to. And before that I was turning tricks on the street. So I guess there's hope for you yet." He put a hand on her waist, scrunching up her top so his fingers were touching her bare skin. Steph wanted to slap him off, but there was still that empty fridge at home, still a chance he might pay. And - his hand was warm.

"Well." There was regret in his voice. He gestured to the package at Steph's feet. "That's for you. From one street-walking vigilante to another." Then he was gone again, just cold air where his hand had been. Steph crouched down for the packet, and carefully opened it. There was money in there - a lot of it. Enough for a weeks groceries, at least.

Probably she shouldn't have taken it. He was at the very least a stalker, at most an arsonist. The kind of guy she chased down, when she was doing her _other_ job. But - money was money, and if he came back, saying that he'd paid for her services, and that he needed her to-

At least then she wouldn't be hungry.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://community.livejournal.com/rarecomicskink/901.html?thread=55685#t55685) for the prompt: "Jason/Steph. It turns out that they both share a common experience in their rough pasts. In order to survive, they've both turned some tricks."


End file.
